


talk to me baby

by Pomfry



Category: Original Work
Genre: A friend challenged me, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Assumptions, Child Abuse, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, First time writing this and will probably be the last, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, High School, I avoided the sex tho so there's no need to worry, Protectiveness, Saving someone in need, That are one hundred percent wrong, are you happy with me ali, i did it, it's important kiddos do it, kind of, the dynamics arent the focus of the thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 13:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15583383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomfry/pseuds/Pomfry
Summary: There’s a bruise on an alpha’s arm and Blair’s mind isscreamingthat something is wrong.





	talk to me baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jar0fStars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jar0fStars/gifts).



> I hope you're happy ali. you made me write omegaverse arE YOU HAPPY NOW

There’s a bruise on his arm. Blair stares at it intently, something itching in her mind. He’s an alpha, she knows - the scent around him is strong and dependable, a smell that her instincts say are safe. She leans against the lockers, watching as he smiles and laughs with a couple other betas, and thinks. While it’s unlikely for an alpha to take abuse, to take  _ any _ hostile action towards them, it’s also not that uncommon for an alpha to take the abuse from a trusted adult - a fine example would be parents.

His posture is sure, his footing evenly spaced. He’s the picture perfect alpha, made of blond hair and blue eyes, his tanned skin shining in the sun. He’s the type of person people would die to get their hands on. But there’s a bruise on his arm and Blair doesn’t think that he got into a fight.

She shifts, brushing her hair out of her eyes. She’s not the ideal omega. Too pale, too plain with her dirt hair and grass green eyes and an attitude too stubborn to fit the stereotype of a submissive omega. She’s not ideal but she is pretty, too, and so people stare. Like now. The alphas stare at her as they walk by, the other omegas glare at her when their crushes keep an eye on her. Blair doesn’t really care. She didn’t care before she presented and she doesn’t care now, six years after the fact.

There’s a bruise on an alpha’s arm and Blair’s mind is  _ screaming _ that something is wrong.

She’s just about to take a step forward, just about to call out to him when the bell rings. She sighs, adjusts the bag on her shoulder, and heads to class, keeping her head high even when she passes alphas. She’s seventeen years old. She’s not about to be cowed by an alpha who’s still growling and snapping and growing into their own skin. She’s an omega but she’s their senior as well.

She bumps into a boy - a freshman, by the height of him - and he snarls, a hand snapping up to grab her wrist. Instantly, everyone is looking at them, and the boy looks startled, like he didn’t even know what happened. Blair knows the feeling. He probably presented maybe in the last few months and still adjusting to the instincts that rear their head. She stares at him evenly even as the same alpha she was observing comes up and gently unattaches the hand, quietly nudging her behind him.

“What was that about?” he asks lightly, steel underneath the words. The freshmen opens his mouth and closes it, his arm falling to his side. “Answer me. You grabbed an omega with the intent to hurt them.”

“I - I’m sorry.” The boy shuffles his feet, cheeks pink. Blair nearly cooes. He’s so cute. “I don’t know what happened. I’ve just been on edge for the past few days.”

The alpha raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. Blair rolls her eyes and steps around him to kneel before the freshmen, ignoring the way the alpha bristles. “What’s your name?” she asks, voice soft. He relaxes at it unconsciously, one hand reaching out to take her’s.

“Shawn,” he replies quietly. Blair smiles, holding out a hand to stop the alpha-with-a-bruise from stalking forward.

“I’m Blair,” she says, voice still soft. She’s studied it and the way an omega talks tends to affect how people act. So her speaking like this is calming everyone down - including Shawn. “Have you presented yet?”

“No.”

Ah. That explains why she’s so protective of him.

“Well, you’ll be presenting in a few days, then. I’d recommend staying at home in the meantime, then. I can walk you to the nurse’s office if you want.”

A boy bursts through the crowd, making his way over to them. He’s glaring, bristling, and Blair recognizes an omega trying to claim someone from another omega. She gets to her feet and takes a step back just as the boy crowds Shawn, wrapping a hand around his elbow and pulling him into his side.

“I can take him,” he says fiercely, something feverish in his eyes as he looks at Shawn. “I’m his friend.”

Blair smiles and nods her head, letting the baby alpha and the little omega walk each other to the nurse’s office. Ah, young love. She turns and runs into the chest of the alpha. He’s not as tall as her, but he’s more wide shouldered, and the way he’s looking at her makes her skin crawl, makes her want to take a step back because that is an alpha  _ angry _ , an alpha irritated, and as much as Blair disregards second genders, she can’t throw away her own instincts

“He’s a kid,” she says with a shrug, and walks away. He follows her, clearly still driven by the inner alpha that says he must protect the omega. She lets it happen if only because she knows it’s not his fault. When they get to her class though, she’s late and he stands guard at her desk as she works. The teacher, recognizing what had occurred, had waved them in and didn’t count her as tardy, calling the boy’s teacher to explain what happened.

“I’m Toby,” he says after a few minutes into their work time. “Toby Clarke.”

“And I’m Bond. James Bond.”

He gives her a small scowl at the reference. “Stop.”

“Never.” Blair smirks, leaning back in her chair and stretching her arms above her head, all too aware of the way his eyes trail down her arms, linger on the curve of her spine. He’s younger than she, more impulsive, and she knows it. “So, why’re you still here?”

“I, uh.” He stops, suddenly sheepish. “I dunno. I guess I didn’t want to leave.”

She barks out a laugh, short and amused. “That’s kind of a stupid reason. But, okay. I get it.”

“You do?” He seems hopeful.

“Yep.” She nods her head firmly. “You, sir, are infatuated with me.”

Silence. Then a gasp of outrage that has her in stitches.

 

\--

 

There’s a bruise on Toby’s face this time. It’s been a few weeks since their first interaction, but they haven’t really spoken since. He’s a sophomore after all, and their schedules rarely collide. Even so, when Blair sees him, she takes note of the injuries she sees on him. One time he wore pants instead of the shorts he prefers, and when he walked she saw a bandage on his calf. Another, he bent down to get a folder he dropped and she noticed something in the shape of a handprint. She’d snapped her pencil that day.

She knows for certain now that something is wrong. Knows, now that someone is hurting this alpha, making him act overconfident and like the alpha he thinks he should be. When he thinks he’s alone in the hallways and when she happens to glance out the door at the right time, he wilts. He leans against the wall and presses a hand to his chest and bends at the waist with shaking shoulders.

She never  _ means _ to see these things, but they’re all right there. She’s sure others have seen them as well. Seen them and dismissed them as  _ oh, he’s an alpha so he gets into fights. _

Toby hasn’t gotten into one fight. She’s checked.

So, one day, she picks up her things and follows him home. She sits in the tree outside his home and simply watches. Something is going to happen, she’s sure of it.

Her gloved fingers brush over the bat she stole from the school. And when something does, she’ll be there.

 

\--

 

Toby never wants to go home. He never wants to leave the sanctuary that the school has become for him, never wants to return to the place that reeks of fear and hurt. His parents, a beta and an alpha, are not so stable. They drink, they’re erratic. Toby’s never wanted to come home, but he never has a choice. So he sucks it up, thinks of the way alphas are supposed to behave in front of their parents, and walks into his home.

His dad isn’t home until dinner and his mom hasn’t worked for as long as he’s remembered, so when he walks into the door, a bottle is smashed on the floor, indicating his mother has based out. Toby forces his attention elsewhere as he makes his way up to his room, ever so aware of the way his ribs hurt. His dad had kicked him when he was down yesterday and him going to school didn’t really help them. But what was he supposed to do, he thinks with a grimace. Stay home at his mother’s mercy?

Yeah, that’s not an option.

He opens the door to his room and throws his backpack down on the bed, climbing into it with a wince. He isn’t sure, exactly, what his dad did to his ribs, but he’s certain it isn’t good. He’d wrapped them the best he could, but - without him knowing what had happened to them, he can’t do what they need to heal properly.

He pulls out his binder, starts on his homework the best he can. He doesn’t really have friends he can text for help. His grades are lagging and there isn’t anyone he can turn to since all of his friendships are ones that end at school. He doesn’t understand the material and sometimes all he wants to do is curl up in his bed and sleep his wounds away, the way his instincts demand it. But he doesn’t live in those times where he could just find a cave to live in until he healed, so he’s forced to go to school.

He rubs at the bruise on his cheek, suddenly irritated. He’s been getting more grumpy as the days pass and his friends tease that he needs an omega to help him through his rut. Toby always rolls his eyes. He’s gotten through them by himself just fine, especially because his father knows to leave him alone during it, so it’s a welcome reprieve.

The door slams shut downstairs. “TOBY!”

Toby sighs, slides off the bed. Dad’s in a bad mood, it seems. Toby doesn’t know how much more of this he can take before he breaks.

He hopes it can wait until he graduates.

‘“Toby!” calls his mother, and Toby opens the door, slipping downstairs. His shoulders are hunched, his body language submissive the way his dad likes, and steps into the kitchen. His mom is red-eyed, her hair mussed, and his father is throwing the door shut with a bottle of whiskey in his hands. Toby eyes it warily.

“Yes?” 

“Why,” Dad starts, taking a swig of whiskey, “did I get a call from your teacher about you fighting again?”

“I - didn’t fight. The bruise is from last night -”

A hand hits his face and Toby goes sprawling, hitting the floor hard.

“Shut up! What did I say about fighting?”

“I wasn’t fighting -”

Another smack. Then another and another and his mother is watching with half-lidded eyes, a bottle of alcohol hanging from her fingertips. Toby’s long since learned not to call out to her, and he curls into a ball, protecting his ribs as his father rains blows down upon him.

He does  _ not _ cry.

 

\--

 

Blair leaps down from the tree, baseball bat tight in her grasp. Toby’s father - an alpha, obvious from the way his scent is, but it’s not like his son’s, not calm and comforting; instead it’s sour and disgusting and Blair doesn’t know how anyone can stand it - is beating him, making more and more bruises and Blair  _ will not _ stand for it.

She kicks the door open, leather gloves squeaking as she tightens her grip and raises it above her head before slamming it down. The father stumbles off of Toby and she hits him again, this time in the face. Tit for tat, she muses darkly, and the metal hits his nose. Blood sprays everywhere and Blair doesn’t drop the bat, doesn’t do anything beyond grabbing Toby’s wrist and dragging him out of the house.

Toby’s too out of it to notice where they’re going, but she shoves him into her car and drives off, an injured alpha in her passenger seat and a bloody baseball bat in her backseat. She grits her teeth, pulls her hair back into a ponytail when she stops at a red light. She’d just attacked an  _ alpha, _ she thinks hysterically, and glances over at Toby. His eyes are still glazed, his hands shaking, and Blair tears her eyes off him as the light turns green.

Her house isn’t far from his and when she parks in front of it, she gently leads him out of the car and into her home. He’s starting to come back to himself, she notices, and grips his hand tighter in preparation for the fight. Her parents aren’t home, so she pulls him into her room, sets him down on the bed, and locks the door behind her.

“...Toby?”

Toby blinks, shakes himself. The light is returning, and Blair sits herself down in her swivel chair, facing him. “Toby? You okay?”

There’s red on him, red marks and red blood, and Blair has to stop herself from reaching out to wash it away. She isn’t his omega, anyway. She doesn’t have that right.

“I’m - Blair?” He looks shocked, and Blair leans back in her seat, feet on the sides of the legs as she turns back and forth. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re in my house,” she replies flatly. “Are you okay?”

“I - yeah, I’m fine. Nothing worse than he’s ever given me,” he says, smiling self deprecatingly. Blair bares her teeth.

“You aren’t going back there,” she tells him, and crosses her arms when he starts to protest. “No. If he’s given you worse - then I don’t want to know what he’s done. You’re not going back there.”

“What were you doing at my  _ house?” _

“I uh.” She shifts. “Well, I kinda...noticed all the bruises and followed you home.”

“And you brought a baseball bat?” he yelps, staring at the bat that’s leaning against the wall. Blair scowls.

“What else would I have used?”

“I - yeah, okay.” They stare at each other for a long moment, Blair doing her best to convey her earnestness and Toby trying to figure out if she’s crazy or just following her instincts.

“So are you staying?” Blair asks finally, looking away. “I can blow up the air mattress in the closet. Mom could call the police and I could use the excuse of instincts to get out of punishment. So, do you? Want to stay, I mean.”

Toby’s mouth opens, closes. He runs his hands over the soft comforter beneath him, lets his eyes roam all over the room before landing on Blair. The words slip past his lips before he could think about it.

“Sure.”

Blair  _ beams _ at him. Toby wonders why he’s so pleased by managing to put a smile on her face.

 

\--

 

“Hey, did you hear? Clarke’s dad got arrested for child abuse.”

“No way! Who’s he staying with?”

_ “I  _ heard it was Blair Dixon.”

“No. Way. That really pretty omega from Junior year?”

“Yeah!”

“Woah. Wonder what he did do to get that chance.”

“Dunno. He’s a lucky guy, though.”

“Hell yeah, he is.”

 

\--

 

Toby wakes up sticky from sweat and an uncomfortable pulsing in his gut. He groans, curls up and buries his face in his pillow. Of  _ course, _ his rut would happen today. It’s been two weeks since he first moved into the Dixon household, and he’s been on edge for days now. His rut should have happened a couple days ago.  _ Not _ today.

Blair’s still in her bed, sleeping, but it won’t be long before she woke up. His scent would be pleading for someone, anyone, and Blair is an omega. She’d be the first to respond.

Toby bites his lip, shoves himself up, and nearly crumbles under the pulsing of heat that spreads through his gut. He needs to get away from her, get away from Blair before something happens that she doesn’t want.

Toby freely admits that he finds Blair attractive, but - that doesn’t mean he wants to share his rut with her, not if she doesn’t want to. His father did that to his mom and that’s why she became pregnant with him. That’s why she started to drink.

He stumbles his way over to the door, one arm wrapped around his stomach as he opens the door and pushes his way over to the bathroom. He can wait in the bathtub until this thing is over.

The door shuts behind him, the click disturbingly loud in the quiet. He strips down to his boxers and curls up in the bathtub, wanting nothing more than to be in a nest so he could be safe. But, no. He doesn’t have a nest this time, and a whine rips through his throat because of it. He wants a nest, wants to hunker down someplace safe and ride this out.

Well, the bathtub is kinda safe, he ruminates, and curls up even more, wishing he’d brought a blanket.

Someone knocks on the door and when he doesn’t answer, they open it and Blair’s head sticks in. Her nostrils flare, her eyes soften, and she steps back, the pitter patter of her feet against the hardwood floors the only thing he can hear for a moment before she bursts in again. Her covers are in her arms, her pillows nearly falling on the floor, and dumps it on him. He huffs, digs through it and arranges it until it’s satisfactory, and looks up at her, at the way she’s grinning in amusement.

“You’re much more coherent than I thought you would be,” she admits after a moment. He blinks at her, hiding the way his… privates seem to jump to attention.

“Uh. Yeah, this is only the first day,” he says awkwardly, shuffling around until he has a pillow in front of his legs. “Tomorrow, it will be...not so good.”

Her cheeks turn pink at the implications. “I see. I’ll go tell Mom so she can call the school and tell them.”

Toby nods absently, burying his face in the pillow. He barely notices her leave, already drifting into sleep.

 

\--

 

When Toby wakes, it’s to the smell of cinnamon rolls and honey. He lifts his head, eyes barely open, and meets Blair’s. He immediately turns red, sputtering complaints as she laughs a little. She’s in shorts and a thin t-shirt - clothes she wears to bed, he realizes with dread - and he watches as she climbs into the bathtub, into his  _ nest. _ He almost bristles, but then she’s laying down, curling up next to him the best she can without touching his abdomen and he...lets his muscles untense. It’s not intruding, nor is it challenging.

He relaxes, lets his head fall on hers as he wraps his arms around her. Blair always smells nice, always smells comforting. It’s welcome at this moment, as it always was. When she saved him, it helped drag him out of that absent state of mind he was in. And, now, when he’s vulnerable in a different way, it makes him warm, makes him want to sleep.

“I’ve heard of alphas in ruts before,” Blair says after a moment. “I heard that they just wanted to have sex. But you - “ she shakes her head in amazement - “you just want to cuddle.”

When an alpha or omega enters a heat or rut for the first time, they typically want their parents to care for them. Toby had neither and as such when he finds a comforting scent, he wants them to act surrogate parents and take care of his needs. In this case, it’s to cuddle with him to take his mind off the heat in his lower belly.

Instead of saying any of this, Toby just grunts, holding her tighter.

“Alright, alright,” Blair laughs, and lays her head down on his chest. “I suppose this won’t be so bad.” She leans up to give him a peck on the cheek, something that makes his face  _ burn. _ “But we’ll talk about this, okay?”

“Okay,” Toby mumbles, and Blair smiles up at him.

“Okay."

 

\--

 

“Alright,” Blair says as she spins in her chair, arms crossed. Toby is sitting on her bed in a weird parody of what happened just weeks before, and her lips twitch up at the sight of it. His cheeks are more filled in, there’s no bruises or bandages. His clothes fit him better. It’s all an improvement and Blair is happy it’s there.

Toby lays his palms down on his knees. “Okay. So what are we going to do now? We reek of each other since we laid together so much and people will get the wrong idea.”

Blair twirls her hair between her fingers, sitting back. The chair squeaks as she does it, an annoying sound she wants to get fixed. “I don’t know,” she admits after a minute. “We already kind of smell like each other since we sleep in the same room, but I stayed home from school to help you through your rut - you’re welcome, by the way - so people already have the wrong idea.”

Toby runs a hand over his face tiredly, tipping until he’s on his back and staring at the ceiling. “I’m really sorry,” he says, and Blair sighs.

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault. People just have these expectations and -” She purses her lips - “and no matter the truth they won’t be convinced. So just - say I’m your packmate. That will explain it away.”

Toby gives her a look. “Really? You’re okay with that.”

Blair shrugs. “I don’t really care what others think of me, not really.” She pulls her hair back into a ponytail, the weight of it making it swing when she shakes her head. “Besides, I’m a Junior. I’m like a year and a half away from getting out of here. What’s gonna stop them from ruining my life? It’s not like I have many friends for them to turn against me or something like that.”

Toby hesitates, the sheets scrunching up in his fist as he thinks it over. “...Okay.”

 

\--

 

“Hey, did you and Dixon...y’know.”

“No, she’s my packmate.”

“Ha! You lucky dog!”

“It’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh. Sure it isn’t.”

 

\--

 

“This isn’t working,” Toby says a few days later, sounding frustrated. Blair hums from her bed, scrolling through her phone as he stomps around her room. “I mean, I can tell them all they like, but -”

Blair finally sighs, reaching out and grabbing him by the wrist before pulling him down onto the bed with her. “Just stop. We spent a rut together. Who cares.”

_ “I _ do,” Toby grumbles, burying his nose in her shoulder. Blair’s breath hitches in her throat. Toby is a very attractive alpha, one with kindness hidden underneath his facade of confidence, and he’s a  _ good _ alpha on top of that. She’d be a fool not to want him.

“You okay?” His voice is muffled against her shirt, and she shakes it off.

“Yeah. Listen, if it bothers you that much, we can stop cuddling.”

“No,” comes the immediate answer, and Blair rolls her eyes. Toby so does love cuddling.

“Then don’t worry about it.”

 

\--

 

“Hey, Blair.”

“Yeah?”

“What was it like, spending a rut with an alpha?”

“Uh, not very interesting? We just stayed in the bathroom and my room the whole time.”

“Two different locations, I got you.”

“No, that’s - you know what. Whatever."

 

\--

 

Blair slams her door shut, letting her bookbag fall onto the floor with a thump as she jumps on her bed and screams into a pillow.

Toby opens the door behind her, setting his bag by her’s and sitting in the chair. “What happened?’

“Fucking  _ ignorant fools.” _

He makes a noise of understanding in the back of his throat. “So Chloe?”

“YES!” Her head shoots up.  _ “God, _ I hate it when I get paired with her! She doesn’t do shit!”

Toby scoots forward in the chair to pat her head. “It’ll be okay.”

“She implied that you were having sex with me every single  _ night.” _

Toby stiffens. “She did what.”

“I know that it’s not a big deal but fuck, man. Just. Goddamn.”

Toby gets on the bed and hugs her tight. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know it will, I’m just  _ frustrated.” _

“And that’s understandable.”

“Gonna punch her in the face next time I see her,” Blair grumbles. Toby huffs a laugh.

“I just might help you.”

 

\--

 

“The prom’s coming up. Do you want to go with me?”

“Nah, I’m going with Blair.”

“Oh?"

“Yeah.”

“Have fun then!”

_ “What was with that tone of voice -” _

 

_ \-- _

 

Winter Prom is boring as Blair expected, but Toby is here with her so not all is lost. She thinks they look great together. He’s wearing a tux with a green tie and she’s in a fit and flare dress the same shade. Her hair’s done up, she did his make up, and they draw the eyes of everyone.

“Care to dance?” Toby asks playfully, holding out a hand. Blair laughs, grabbing it.

“Sure.”

The dance floor is crowded, but the music playing is enough to get Blair moving her hips, doing ridiculous dance moves that have her giggling and Toby grinning as he tries to imitate her. They both disregard the looks they get and ignore the times they almost kiss. Almost, almost. Toby tries to glare everyone away from them and only marginally succeeds. Blair steals his food even when he’s looking and they get into a squabble about it.

It’s a fun night, and when they stumble home, they’re suitably tired.

Toby flops down on her bed, Blair does the same beside him, and they both fall asleep right away.

 

\--

 

“Man, did you  _ see them?” _

“They really are mated, woah.”

“Clarke is such a lucky guy.”

 

\--

 

“Christmas is here,” Blair sings as she flounces into their room. Toby looks up from the book he’s reading for school, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s two months away.”

“Yeah, and?” She pulls out a mistletoe. “Look what I got for my parents.”

Toby laughs, reaching out. She fits into his side easily, like she was meant to be there, and he holds the mistletoe above his head to inspect it. “It does look good,” he allows, and Blair huffs, extending an arm to grab it. He holds it higher and higher until it’s above both of their heads. Their eyes meet, they turn red, Toby drops the mistletoe.

Blair stares at him critically, cheeks practically scarlet. “You know,” she says finally. “This would be a good time to kiss me.”

Toby finds himself leaning forward and Blair meets him halfway, wrapping her arms around his neck

 

\--

 

Blair tastes like the potato chips from her snack and the mint gum she chews on occasion.

Toby loves it and no amount of sputtering from Blair is able to make him change his mind.

(Blair smells like cinnamon rolls and now she smells like Toby’s forest pine scent, and he’s the same. Neither of them miss the way it was before)

 

\--

 

“I love you, you know that right?” Blair asks one day as they lay side by side on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

Toby smiles softly, kissing her cheek. “I know. I love you too.”

.


End file.
